


queens

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex does not sleep, not really; she just turns out the lights, save for the lamp beside her bed. Alex, Piper, and a could-have-been in Queens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	queens

Alex does not sleep, not really; she just turns out the lights, save for the lamp beside her bed.  Some nights, she tries to read until morning, one well-worn paperback after the other, but mostly she just lies there, staring at the ceiling and listening for odd sounds in the dark.

Tonight, Alex listens in as the faint scratching right out on the corridor grows louder and nearer, and instinctively, she gets up, clutching at her chest. _Jesus, please_ , she thinks, feeling for the gun in the drawer. _I'm just hearing things, aren't I? I'm just hearing things--_

When the scratching turns to knocking, Alex feels her heart shoot up to her throat. _Shit,_ she thinks, shakily lifting the gun and pointing it toward the door. _Shit, I shouldn't have gone out, I shouldn't have risked it._ Earlier that night out of boredom, she'd dropped by the convenience store downstairs--one of the few places Crockett let her visit on her own, actually, being that it is basically next door anyhow.

Alex takes a small step closer as the first few knocks are followed with another. And another. _Fuck._ If they've found her, she's as good as dead. _What was I thinking,_ she asks herself, biting down on her lip. _What the fuck was I thinking, if at all._ She stares at the knob and waits for it to move. Briefly, she remembers: Bali and Brussels; Turkey and Greece. Paris.

 _Piper._ The thought of the name makes Alex want to walk back into her kitchen, pour herself a drink. _Fuck it, right._ She takes another step closer, hand more firmly around the gun now. She has never been a shooter; she'd made it a point to never have to shoot one _. Alex Vause, the diplomat_. Now, she feels like laughing.

"Hello?"

Alex is startled by the sound at the other side of the door: Soft and decidedly _female_ , to begin with _. This is how I'm going to get killed_ , Alex thinks, putting one hand around the knob and breathing in.  

When she opens the door, she lets out a gasp, feeling the heart previously lodged in her throat plummet to the bottom of her stomach. For a moment she finds it difficult to breathe, like her lungs are filling with water and she is drowning, but she pulls herself together just enough to lower her gun, her hand trembling.

" _Jesus._ " Alex breathes out. "I could have _shot_ you."

"I tried knocking," says Piper, her hands up in the air like she's being held up at gun point. "Put the gun away, Alex."

 _Shit._ For a moment there Alex becomes self-conscious -- she must look so _fucked,_ answering the door disheveled like this, gun in her hand and circles under her eyes. 

Not that Piper seems any less fucked, though admittedly, the sight takes a bit of getting used to -- it has been a considerable while since Alex has seen Piper in anything but prison garb, and now she's _here_ , standing in her doorway in a small black dress, barefoot with her heels in one hand. "Is this a bad time?" she says, lowering her hands slowly, like she's scared of making any sudden movements.

Alex laughs, the sound unfamiliar by now that it hurts her chest.  "Very funny, Pipes," she says, opening her door wider and stepping aside. When Piper does not move, Alex tilts her head and narrows her eyes at her. "Well?" she asks. "You coming in, kid?"

*

Alex hands Piper a glass of wine and watches her from the other end of the room, arms crossed before her chest. She doesn't understand the situation in her hands -- how is Piper even here, to begin with, after everything that went down the last time they saw each other? Piper just sits there, face blank, wine untouched in her hand.

"Piper," Alex says, after a long while. Piper looks up, the blank look on her face now slowly turning into a mix of confusion and anger. She says nothing. "How did you get here?" Alex asks.

Piper shrugs, shaking her head before downing the contents of her glass in one go. "My grandmother died," she says, matter-of-factly, before lowering her glass on the table.

"You're on furlough." Alex feels her eyes widen. "Nobody gets furlough."

"We live in an age of miracles." Piper forces a smile. "Larry slept with somebody else."

 _Miracles indeed,_ Alex almost says out loud. She bites down on her tongue instead, keeping the words in. _Easy Vause,_ she reminds herself, biting down hard that she tastes the tinge of blood there. Something about this infuriates her, but then again, someone's who's always had to answer the door with a gun in her hand for the past few weeks must be mad about something all this time.

"Listen," she begins, adjusting her glasses. "About Chicago--"

"Yes, by all means, let us talk about Chicago, Alex, and let's start with what the fuck--"

Alex shakes her head, looking away. _Of course, she'll never read any of those, what were you expecting?_ "You never read my letters," she says, feeling the sharp edges of the words in her mouth. "Not even one."

"Sure, because I'd readily read something from my lying ex-girlfriend who sold me out to _get out_."

Alex laughs. It bubbles deep in her chest and surfaces like bitter froth. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you're out, aren't you? Having a life?"

"Jesus, Piper. Does this look like a life to you?"

Piper makes a show of looking around, wearing a face Alex knows so well: Piper is too exhausted to be properly angry, so she just looks at Alex levelly, her eyes dead. "Better than prison, I suppose."

"Yeah, because I get to answer the door with a gun."

"Yeah, about that -- is that how it is? Are you back to dealing, Alex, because I swear to God, I will--"

Alex shakes her head, moving to pour herself a drink. This is going to be a long night -- nights like this with Piper have always been long, and not in the sense that Alex usually wants. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she asks, hands braced on the kitchen counter. It's easy, being like this with Piper; just like putting on an old shirt. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Kubra walked."

"What do you mean?" Piper asks, suddenly quiet, color draining from her face.

"I mean Kubra _walked_. They told me they could put him away for good, and they were wrong."

"What--you mean Kubra's out?"

"Why do you think I answer the door with a gun?" Alex pauses to take a sip from her drink, watching the look on Piper's face shift and soften.

"Shit," says Piper, cradling her face in her hands. "They do--you do have people guarding you, right?"

"A parole officer who spends maybe twenty minutes looking at my window," says Alex. "What a fucking joke."

" _Alex._ " Piper's gone from too-exhausted-to-be-properly-angry to too-exhausted-to-be-properly- _anxious_. "Are you even safe here?"

Alex shrugs. "Well. I have a gun."

"Not a good enough answer." Piper sighs. She leans back, crossing her legs. Alex tries not to stare. "Is it even safe for you to go out?" And then: "I saw you at the convenience store. That's how I got here."

Alex feels a chill wrap around her heart. _If it hadn't been Piper, it could have easily been somebody else._ "Fucking hell," she mutters. “I should just bolt, you know?”

“And what, violate your parole?”

“And then maybe I’ll land back in prison,” says Alex, putting on a fake cheery tone. It puts a faint smile on Piper’s lips. Alex feels a tightening in her chest at the sight of it. “You’d like that, won’t you?” she says. “All our prison wife dreams.”

“Alex.”

The tone she takes with her – it makes Alex want to _hit things._ Right then, at the oddest of moments, she remembers telling Nicky how she used to know where to go. _Maybe Argentina? Maybe Rio. Maybe back to that old shack in that beach in Cambodia where they don’t have phones. Fucking drop out of the planet, Christ._ She blinks the blur out of her eyes. _Shit._ She lifts her glasses briefly to wipe at it with the underside of her wrist.

 _God damn._ These lonely nights are making her all sorts of _soft_ and Alex doesn’t do helpless well.

Meanwhile, Piper has pushed herself off the sofa and is now standing right across her in the kitchen, leaning against one of the drawers. It’s the closest they’ve been since Piper walked into her apartment, and Alex shoves her hands into her pockets, balling them into fists, trying not to touch.

“When I saw you in the convenience store, I just – I froze,” Piper says softly, eyes on the floor. “I was so angry, yet so—I don’t know. I was—you were a comforting presence. Shit, I don’t know,” Piper laughs—that nervous sound that falls apart just toward the end. “You confuse me.”

“Well,” says Alex, sniffing. “ _I_ confuse myself.” She clears her throat, fiddling with the empty glass on the kitchen counter. “Look, can I say something about Chicago without getting shot at for a second.” Piper lifts her head, nodding at her. “I meant it when I said everything happened so fast.”

“ _You_ told me to lie about Kubra, Alex.”

“And _you_ told me you were going to tell the truth!” Alex removes her glasses momentarily, if only to rub at her eyes. “Jesus. We’re like a fucking O. Henry story.”

Piper smiles at that, soft like the night has completely worn her out. “I’m—I have to get back.”

“Already?” It’s out before Alex can stop herself from sounding all too fond and familiar. “I mean. Christ, Pipes, I haven’t even—I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” Piper just says, fixing her hair. For the first time that night, Alex lets herself _look._ Like this, Piper looks so _raw_ and all too tender to the touch, her guard down. “I was—I was hoping I would get to her in time.”

Alex blinks. _She’s talking about her grandmother._ Alex hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Piper’s family, of course; always that invisible woman, wasn’t she? She steadies herself against the kitchen counter, feeling her heart harden, ever so slightly. “I’m sorry,” she just says again, though she’s too aware that her tone comes off a bit flat.

When Piper looks back at her, in that split-second her eyes flash with something – Alex recognizes hurt, recognizes anger, but not in that intense shade. It lasts no more than a handful of seconds before retreating into Piper’s head, like she’s saying, _I don’t have the time for this._ “Thanks. I guess,” Piper says instead. “I mean, for the wine.” She leans back further, finds herself resting against the fridge. The scene it paints in Alex’s head is so _domestic_ , she can’t help but start laughing.

“God, Piper,” she says quietly. “Look at us.”

Piper looks, chewing at her bottom lip. She looks around the kitchen like she’s taking it all in for the first time – and then she starts crying; a quiet, shaky cry that’s all shoulders and chest. Alex tries to look away, but she finds that she can’t; the way Piper sounds like she’s trying to keep it all in is all too familiar it tears at Alex in the most unexpected of ways.

“Hey,” Alex says, tone uncertain. She’s still gripping at the edge of her counter, chest pounding, trying to gauge what it is Piper needs now – no, what it is Piper _wants_. “Piper – kid, come on now.” _I am a comforting presence,_ Alex reminds herself, taking a step closer.

“Don’t.” It’s out so soft, it reminds Alex of how it feels like to get her heart broken for the first time. Piper holds her hand up, and wipes at her eyes with the other, though the way she looks at Alex tells an entirely different story. “I’m fine, I’m—” she pauses to swallow, turning away from Alex. “I’m _fine_.”

Alex reaches for the refrigerator door and Piper flinches. “Let me,” Alex says, tone careful. Piper leans back and further away. “It’s just a glass of water, Pipes. Let me do this for you.”

Piper watches her, weary and _wary,_ and all Alex could think about is how this is just a glass of water. _Jesus,_ she thinks as she pours, trying to keep it from spilling. _Just a glass of water._ She approaches Piper slowly, holding her breath.

Alex says, “Here,” her hand brushing against Piper’s in the briefest of moments: Warm now, gone in the next half-second. Alex sighs.

“This wasn’t why I came here,” says Piper, staring into her glass.

“Then why did you?”

Piper keeps looking in the water, like the answer is there. Alex takes a step closer, checking for Piper’s reaction. Nothing. The room is so quiet; the air so thick. When she breathes in, it’s like Piper is all the air around her, and god, her chest _hurts._

“Say something,” Alex says, in a voice she doesn’t recognize as her own.

Piper puts her glass away quietly before lifting her hand toward Alex, reaching out and settling lightly her curved palm upon the side of Alex’s neck, thumb rubbing absently upon the pulse point there. Alex breathes out, leaning in and just _letting_ her. _No questions,_ she just thinks, eyes closed. _No more questions._

The way Piper kisses her then reminds Alex of far too long ago, when everything was slow and _easy_ , and they could still fall into such _softness_ so carelessly -- as if they had no endings; as if they had all the time in the world.

For a moment, Alex gives in to the make-believe, her world reduced to a singular feeling. _Please,_ she thinks, gripping the edge of the table behind Piper tighter, trying to make it last as long as she could, trying to keep her hands off Piper.

She doesn’t last long. It feels like a burst of light behind her eyes, the way she just goes, _Fuck it then,_ in her head as she pushes herself off the edge and runs her fingers into Piper’s hair -- she doesn’t know where else to put her hands. Piper makes a small, pained sound against her lips, and all Alex could think about is how this moment could end any minute. Alex holds on tighter, hands now settled around Piper’s hips, familiar in ways that make Alex ache.

 _Please._ Alex doesn’t believe in these things, but already it tastes like prayer on her tongue. Piper holds her closer, thumb still rubbing upon her pulse point, and Alex feels herself starting to come apart at the seams. _Hold it together, just a bit longer._

Piper breaks first, and the sudden rush of air back into Alex’s lungs feels like a kick to the chest. Piper rests her hands against Alex’s shoulders – not pushing against them, just… a _comfortable_ gesture. Alex licks at her lips absently, breathing heavily in disbelief.

“I don’t know why I came here,” Piper says finally.

“Forget I asked,” says Alex, resting her forehead against Piper’s. “No more questions.”

“No more questions,” Piper says.

*

The next thing Alex knows, it’s almost dawn, and the birds have begun coming to her window, whispering in the half-light. She finds herself on the couch, paperback on the floor and blanket askew on her lap.

 _Alone again, naturally,_ she just thinks. Her parting with Piper earlier had been a quiet affair; seeing Piper so _resigned_ is easily among this life’s surprising sadnesses.

“Maybe I’ll add you to my visitation list,” was what Piper said at the door.

“Maybe you should read my letters from now on,” was what Alex said in response. Piper smiled and nodded, waving lightly like she’s saying, _See ya,_ before walking out into the corridor.

Alex didn’t look at her as the door closed; she didn’t want that memory.

*

Later, Alex finds a note tucked inside her book. Piper must have sneaked it in while she wasn’t looking. Five words, in her hastily scrawled handwriting--

_I wish I could stay._

Alex folds the note back up and marks the page she’s on with it, before turning to the window to listen to the birds. _You and me both, kid,_ she thinks idly, watching the birds and their silhouettes dancing against her curtains. #


End file.
